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It’s a simple question, but sometimes I wonder how many people really have a good answer for it. I have a million responses, and my journals are bursting at the seams with list upon list of things I want to do, places I want to go, dreams I want to fulfill, and languages I want to learn. But there is one list I always go back to.

In the sea of gray and drab concrete I live in, I sometimes forget just how bright and vivid colors can be, especially the color green. In Asia, the color green takes on a whole new meaning, and rice paddies glisten like jewels laid out across the plains.

I took this picture while I was biking across Laos with two of my girlfriends, but the rice paddies were just as beautiful everywhere I went in Asia- Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and Burma. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my travels in South East Asia. It was such a magical time in my life, where all the possibilities in the world loomed on the horizon and I was drunk on my youth and zeal for life. I hope I can rediscover that feeling.

This sunset was one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen in my life, and the fact that I was witnessing it as I padeled up the Amazon river in a canoe only made it all the more amazing. We were somewhere outside of Iquitos, Peru, deep in the jungle, getting ready to travel the whole Amazon river by boat, unsure of what lay ahead and yet so deeply inspired by what we saw around us. As the sun slowly drifted down across the horizon, the jungle came alive with the sounds of a million forms of life, the stars exploded across the sky, and my heart stopped beating for just a moment as I contemplated just how much beauty exists in the world.

As I try to mentally prepare myself for another long week of work “inside the box,” I’m remembering all the incredible journeys I’ve taken over the years. My odyssey years, as I call them, appear to be coming to an end, but that doesn’t mean I can’t revisit all the memories from my travels.

My memories of Mexico are painted in bright and vivid hues, dashes of crazy colors swirled together, stacked in neat little piles, splashed across the sky, and cut up in little cubes. The Mexican aesthetic is beautiful and bright, chaotic yet orderly, surreal yet existing right in front of your eyes, and so very magical. The devil is in the details in a country like Mexico, and to truly appreciate the essence of the country, you should buy some jicama and watermelon slices tossed with lime juice and chili powder, all prepared right before your eyes. I can still remember the subtle combination of sweet, salty, tangy, and spicy all in one delicious and crunchy bite, in a beautiful package. Beauty and creativity in such unexpected and magical ways, and this is just at the corner fruit stand. Now that is what I call the Mexaesthetic.

Just arrived in Montreal and I have to say, this city is already capturing my imagination at every turn. On my morning run I only saw one other person jogging, but I also saw more people riding bikes then I have in any other city, ever. It was surreal, these orderly bike paths with beautiful blondes just cycling along, their hair flying behind then, men in full suits leaning into the turns, and everyone just being so civilized and respectful about the whole thing. And then, half-way through my run, I stumbled across a treasure-trove of graffiti covered buildings. Any city with beautiful bike paths is a city after my own heart, but combine that with edgy graffiti, delicious food, and a European populace, and well… all I can say is j’adore Montreal!!

For the past several years, I feel like been walking on the edge of a cliff, straddling possibilities for the future and bracing myself against what sometimes seems like an inevitable plunge into the abyss. At times this feeling is thrilling, and the adrenaline of complete freedom from responsibilities courses through my veins as I hop on another plane to another faraway land for yet another adventure. But more often then not, this feeling is terrifying. Mostly, it hits me when I return home from one of my trips, and I realize that I am broke, unemployed, and homeless.

My girlfriends and I stepped onto the dusty road in the middle of nowhere and watched in trepidation as the bus pulled away and the three of us were left clutching our backpacks and staring at the great expanses of countryside in the blinding mid-day sun. This was what we had been looking for, our big attempt to get off the well-beaten “tourist track” in Vietnam. Yet as a crowd of men approached us on motorbikes and started yelling at us in Vietnamese, we started to wonder just what we had gotten ourselves into.